Robert, Called Beastly
by Lady Lye
Summary: The account of Robert of Stonebridge, from the death of his wife Agnes to his engagement to the lady Aelis. From Karen Cushman's 'Catherine, Called Birdy.'


**Robert, Called Beastly**

**12th of June**

It has been three weeks since Agnes and the babe passed. Her father is furious with me but can do nothing. My mother is plainly saddened, but Father is pleased to have Foxgrove secured for us.

All this is meaningless—I am a man tormented. My gut grumbles every hour, my conscience nags, and only ale can take away my guilt. This is God's punishment for taking a child to bed. She was but twelve, younger even than Catherine. But what else was I to do? She was eager to know a man, and handfasting is good as wed.

She died painfully, the child caught in her tiny body.

Agnes, I am sorry. God in Heaven, I am penitent. Please, please, forgive a man his folly.

**14th of June**

I visited Edward at the abbey yestermorn, in hopes that I might find absolution in the house of God. Though he is the youngest of my brothers, he is no doubt the wisest. Edward has chosen the life of a monk, and it suits his pensive, scholarly mood perfectly. It was he who suggested I write that earlier letter begging forgiveness. It is he who suggests I continue writing until I am no longer tormented by my own thoughts.

"Robert," he said when I had finished baring my pain to him, "I cannot make your pain disappear, nor your sins. Only God can do that."

"Brother, I am consumed," I begged. "Is there no way to alleviate this guilt?"

He was then silent, turned inward. When he spoke, I thought it was to change the subject. "Our sister Catherine has been much changed since autumn. She is becoming a woman."

"Yes, and what of it? She will be married soon and we shall have a Shaggy Bearded lord for a brother."

"She is more thoughtful now. She speaks better."

"She is a reckless wench and more willing to throw herself over a cliff than speak rationally."

"Robert, you must stop treating her as a child," Edward said irritably, a crack showing in his calm monk's mask. "She is no longer our baby Birdy to be pinched and teased. She has kept an almost daily account of her days for some six months now."

That surprised me; Edward is right, I do still see her as our infant, toddling sister. Somehow in my shock he persuaded me to begin my own account, using words like _soothing_, _catharsis_, and _healing_.

I feel less of a man.

So here begins the account of Robert, son and heir of Rollo and Aislinn of Stonebridge, now made the widower lord of Foxgrove, in the year 1291 of our Lord.

May God help me.

**20th of June**

I have spent the last three days consumed by first ale and then alehead. The steward here is none too fond of me, and I suspect he has taken to hiding the best and oldest wines from the cellar. This is just as well, as there is no lady to make me possets or nurse my aching head.

Agnes was too far gone with child and not enough here to make her mark on the household. The village resents me for murdering their mistress with my impatience. I cannot blame them. I do not like myself either.

**28th of June**

A letter from home. Little Bird's engagement to the pig has been finalized. I cannot say I am pleased. The man tried to murder a dog at my wedding feast. I blame myself now for not being at home to persuade our father otherwise. A pest and a child she may be, but she does not deserve to be wife to a dog killer.

**3rd of July**

I have moved from the master's bedchamber to one on the far side of the manor. I cannot sleep within those walls any longer. I found this morning beneath the bed a pair of Agnes' shoes, kicked there in frustration after her feet swelled too large for them. I thought I had rid myself of all her memories, but she haunts me still, accusingly. The basinet still sits at the foot of the great bed, barely discernable beneath a dozen blankets kicked there since the weather grew hot. For all I did not love Agnes, I was in love with my unborn son.

**15th of July**

Today I visited with Thomas. As our father's second son, he is without land nor title, and so has styled himself a wandering, unofficial knight-errant. He does fewer good deeds than he likes to speak of, but he is my first brother and so he deserves my help.

I bellowed at the steward to unearth the finer ales from their hiding place and harried the cook until he served up a dinner fit for the lord. (I have been dining on foods that will not further upset my alehead.) Thomas was suitably impressed, and drank deeply.

"Brother," I said at last, as he chewed contentedly on a shank of roast beef. "I have been thinking on our present state of affairs. I am still our father's heir, I do not need two manors. This place holds nothing but bad memories for me. Why do you not take it and become lord of Foxgrove?"

Thomas leveled me with the most distrustful glare, the likes of which I have not seen since our boyhood. Have I truly acted ill enough to earn such a face? Daring him to eat slugs and jump into piles of manure cannot possibly earn a man such ill-treatment, can they?

"Robert, why such change of heart? You would willingly give up your independence to live again at the behest of Rollo?"

I tried then to sound myself, the brash older brother we have always known me to be. I am not sure I was able to convince him. I have grown soft since the death of Agnes. Nevertheless, he has accepted Foxgrove, and will take its title when he has finished wandering England for his pleasure.

**18th of July**

Thomas has insisted I go with him tomorrow on his visit to Castle Finbury. He is afire for the lady of Warrington, recently widowed by her infant husband. All his rakish friends speak of her golden hair and fine, courtly manners. No doubt she is a meek and docile creature waiting to be transferred from the care of her father to her husband, and then her sons.

**19th of July**

Thomas says the lady of Warrington is Birdy's friend Aelis, who visited Stonebridge last Christmas. I have a vague recollection of her, but mostly remember the girls running off to Birdy's chamber to share secrets and laugh. This bothers Thomas not a wit.

**21st of July**

As clumsy and stubborn as Birdy is, that is how refined and coy the lady Aeliss behaves—at least when she is at table. Thomas flirts with her atrociously and she rebuffs him without an angry word or any encouragement to continue. He does so anyway.

I want nothing to do with this merriment. The Castle is full of laughter, and the ale flows freely. I have found a seat by the fire and have resolved not to move until Thomas is at last willing to leave.

_The hour of Vespers, later that day:_

The lady Aeliss herself brought me my next tankard.

"So you are a writer as well," she said with a hint of a smile gracing her lips, her back to the rest of the room.

It took me some moments to recollect that she is Birdy's closest friend beyond the goat boy. "Only when I cannot have the ear of wiser men than myself," I replied—I do not know why. But it made her laugh. For the first time since arriving, I did not feel that every guffaw was meant as a personal insult to my grief.

"We have inks of many colors in the study, if you would like to see them. Catherine has taken to drawing, like a monk or a painter."

Corpus bones. There is nothing my stupid sister will not try. No doubt our father is livid.

But I was wise enough not to insult her before her friend and instead agreed that I would indeed like to see these colored inks. My inks have come from Foxgrove's neglected supply and their quality is poor.

**22nd of July**

Aelis had an ulterior motive in asking me to the study. She wanted my opinion of the inks—to help her in choosing which to gift to Little Bird for her wedding gift. Having not seen the nitwit since March, I could not say which she would prefer, and having only learned to write within the last year, I could not offer a real opinion on their quality. Yet the lady smiled at my buffoonery and seemed satisfied by what I was able to offer.

She has invited me to dine with her tomorrow.

**23rd of July**

Corpus bones. Aelis is not the sweet creature she pretends to be! Suddenly the mystery of her friendship with my hellsent little sister comes clear! Beneath her golden hair and radiant smile lies a clever creature waiting to seize a man's soul and ensnare him. She is as foul-mouthed as any man! No doubt Birdy adores her. No small wonder she was married to a seven year old boy too young to object to her manner.

Thomas has decided we shall leave tomorrow. I plan to return for Lammas.

**1st of August**

The steward was most unwilling to help me prepare for my visit to Castle Finbury. He was reluctant to part with the twenty loaves of fresh bread meant for the manor household. I was forced to bellow at him as Father is wont to do. After all, I _am_ the householder and if I wish to go without Lammas bread at my table this year, it is my own decision and not his. His family within the village will celebrate in the local church.

**2nd of August**

Aelis swears that Foxgrove's loaves are the tastiest in the region. I did not expect to take any pride from the place once I handed its future over to Thomas. Now I almost wish it were mine again.

**7th of August**

I awoke sweating this morning, but it was not the heat that disturbed my sleep. I dreamt of Agnes, her tiny frame even smaller still as she lugged the weight of our child up a great mountain of stone steps. She reached for me and begged me to help her climb but I was unable to—instead the steps fell away from beneath her feet. She and the babe fell down the stairs, tumbling end over end. I could not look away in the dream and I fear that God still wishes to punish me for my misdeeds.

I must ask Edward about this.

**11th of August**

Edward says the dreams will stop when I am able to forgive myself. How can I? I murdered a child. I lay with a girl I did not truly care for and allowed her to bear my babe when she was not able to do so. I have always been lucky before—the women have been strong, or known ways to prevent pregnancy. Now my sins have caught up with me.

**15th of August**

Aelis came to Foxgrove this day, and lavished praise upon the village bakers. They are in love with her kind words, and her money. She has purchased nearly every loaf of bread in the village and commissioned thirty more for Castle Finbury, to be delivered when they are ready. The village is a a-bustle and I am grateful to her, for they are now too busy to despise me.

She also brought with her a young dog, the nephew of the hounds she gave to Birdy last year. I have named him Sage so that he will not feel out of place with his brethren (whom Little Bird calls Peppercorn, Anise and Betany), and in hopes that he will grow into the name.

We took a walk around the grounds, allowing the gamboling puppy to stretch his legs. Aelis becomes a different person when away from watchful eyes. Her eyes light with mischief and she is clever as any man—more so than many I have known.

**16th of August**

No nightmares last night.

**17th of August**

Aelis left today, but before she took her horse, we walked again, this time through the village to the church with its rough stone walls. She spent much of the walk there smiling and speaking to the villagers—she already knows more of them by name than I have in the nearly six months I have overseen this place. When I said as much, she looked at me slyly beneath her pale eyelashes and said simply, "Happy workers bake more quickly."

I prayed for another, longer visit. It was Aelis who stood from the pew first, and waited for me to join her. She promptly took me aside, to the lone window streaming pasty light into the dim nave.

"Robert," she said sweetly, taking my hands in her small, smooth ones. I nearly pulled away—I have come to fear touching a woman. My touch seems tainted now. But she was insistent, and looked at me earnestly. "Robert, I have been married, but I have not yet been a wife. When my little husband died, I vowed that I would love and be loved. I am in love with you, Robert."

Perhaps she did not say it quite so plainly. My memory for such things is poor.

I tried both to turn her away from me and to contain myself. The desire that pulsed through me at her words was frightening—but I am determined to do right this time. Aelis is near fifteen, a right time for marriage—and for bearing children. There is no danger there.

I must think on this.

**21st of August**

I have decided. These past three days without Aelis have been torturous slow. Tomorrow the villagers will send a cart to Castle Finbury carrying Aelis' bread, and I shall send a letter of my own to her father, voicing my interest.

Pray my own father will not throw a fit. Aelis' family is rich, and so I think he will not object.

**26th of August**

That bird-witted sister of mine has finally lost all sense. I returned home today to speak with Father about Aelis only to find that Catherine has given herself away to her Dog Killer for the sake of a bear! She went with Father to the fair in Lincoln this week and took pity on a bear that was being made sport of by the crowd. When it refused to dance, the owner decided to pit it against ravenous dogs and take bets against the winner. Catherine is called Little Bird for good reason—she loves birds, her chamber is an aviary—but she loves all animals nearly as well. I confess, upon hearing the tale I felt anger with the owner as well. But our Little Bird Brain decided that she had to rescue this bear, and so has promised the owner half the silver sent her by the Dog Killer as his betrothal gift! She is truly doomed to him, now.

**28th of August**

Father's Steward was right—there is an abbey to the west that keeps a menagerie. I shall meet with the abbess in the morn, and pray God smiles upon Catherine and her foolish gestures.

**29th of August**

Success! Today I ride home to Stonebridge with my pocket lightened and my sister honored. She is rid of the bear and soon we shall be rid of her and her troubles as well.

**1st of September**

Father believes my wits addled by my kindness to Catherine. He will not hear of an engagement until after his return from Lenton. Pray he will not be gone long, as Mother is near birthing his fifth child.

**5th of September**

Birdy and Morwenna spent three days aiding in the birth of another girl, but now our mother lies near death. She is ill with fever and Birdy is frantic. She may be a lady healer yet.

However, the house is too discordant and unwelcoming to menfolk at this time. It reminds me too much of Agnes. Pray our mother does not die in as much pain. I go to visit Castle Finbury.

**7th of September**

Aelis coaxed the stories of Birdy's bear and Agnes from me this evening. She was awed at my good will toward my sister—who she admits has always described me as nothing but a brute—and wept for me as I told her of young Agnes' death. She thinks me a tragic hero. Her father is less certain.

**9th of September**

Word arrived from Stonebridge. Father is home and Mother alive. I go now to convince the lord Rollo that my wits are not addled, that I am still the son of his loins, and that a marriage to Aelis will appropriately line his pockets.

Pray her father never finds these pages.

**10th of September**

He has been with Mother and the babe all day. I fear this waiting shall drive me mad.

_Hour of Vespers:_ He has agreed! He is a happy man this day, with his wife alive, a new child well, his daughter to wed a wealthy man (he does not care that the man is a dog killer), and now his son also to wed well.

I have sent word to Aelis. Now all that awaits is her father's approval.

**13th of September**

These days have passed in bliss. Aelis' father has blessed the marriage, and we will be wed at Stonebridge in three months' time. Apparently the girls have secret ways of speaking, for Birdy came to me this day to ask suspiciously if I did not still miss Agnes or the stillborn babe.

Edward may be right—I still feel pain over my taking Agnes to bed too soon. But I no longer agonize over it. I no longer drink myself into stupor—and I thank God and Aelis for that.

I could only grin at my silly little sister, the lover of bears and birds, and pinch her.

Tonight I send word to Foxgrove and to Thomas: They must take over the duties of the lord and prepare some fifty loaves for our wedding.


End file.
